


On Another Ocean

by Zigzagwanderer



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 16:36:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16559306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zigzagwanderer/pseuds/Zigzagwanderer





	On Another Ocean

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hannibalsimago](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannibalsimago/gifts).



Two guys blow in to the empty pier café.

It’s one of those insanely bright November days, when the sea is all broken teeth and foaming foolishness.

Crooked-smile says something softly, and gets his hands chafed for his trouble.

They sit in the farthest booth.

The vista’s been galleried before; roan-barked cliffs and curved knife of shingle beach below. 

But you would have to look that way, to appreciate the little bay defying the Atlantic itself, and not just let your eyes slip, longingly, back and back again, ‘cross the neat pie-crust of a table. 

Where boots and knees bump beneath.

Honeymoon couple, Mildred concludes, and elbows the tip jar to the front of the counter.

Mr Silver Fox orders for them both, and then gives away the cookie that comes with the cocoa. 

The one taking it lets pieces of sweetmeat be put upon his tongue. 

His eyes are new fire, behind the guard of his glasses. 

Can’t envy what you never had, Mildred scolds, but battles her broom pointlessly out front anyhow, rather than sit by the register, wondering what it would’ve been like, to have found someone to steal kisses from her that way.

Their talk drifts through the salted shutters.

Lovers’ nonsense; dragons, sailboats, lost princesses. 

It gets even colder.

The seagulls call time.

“So,” Mildred takes their money. Gentles under praise of her baking. 

They are winding scarves around one another’s throats.

Paired rings steal the horizontal sunlight, and make it immortal. 

“How long you boys been married?” 

If you put a gun to her head, she’d guess at a month.

Fox is glowing, moonlight on deep water.

“Well,” the other scratches at his scar, ghosting up a grin. 

They pass around another of those damn adorations. 

“Since you ask, it’s five years, tomorrow.”


End file.
